#and i thought it was sooo funny

[horce-divorce]

me and @smeetlinglord are ur cool gay uncles

[abstractfrog]

SILVER BLAZE PART THREE - happy jonkday everyone. one of these days i'll draw a scene that doesn't take place at night

[sualne]

some sketches

[notherpuppet]

Alastor is a complex character!

Despite being one of the few characters in Hazbin with confirmed identities (his ethnic background and sexual orientation), those identities are in of themselves, complex experiences.

There’s seemingly nothing about the character that is Black or White.

I think that’s why he is such a compelling character! Also, it’s probably one reason why he is such an attractive conduit for folks’ creative expression.

His identities are not necessarily why many people may gravitate towards him, but they do offer a chance for people to investigate him and explore a character—as unique as he is—into avenues they may not have considered before.

I can commiserate with feeling defensive of a character who shares an identity with you—ESPECIALLY an underrepresented one. Discourse is natural and completely fine! (And very educational sometimes in my experience)

But I don’t think it’s fruitful to police a fandom in these matters. Some folks come to my inbox (I delete the really rude ones) or comment sections with a very cop-like attitude to a space that’s supposed to be creative and/or fun *airhorn*

That’s my take as just some guy on the internet 🤓🛜 have a good dayyyyy

[dailyloopdeloop]

loop and mirabelle. That's it that's the ask

DAY 84: enrolled in the gossip wars

[iizuumi]

Enough general kn8 art, time to make everyone look at my weird little ship hello

[radioroxx]

in. clover lives aus or aus where they choose to live in the underground whatnot. i think more ppl should play with the idea that their friends know Jackshit About Humans. please and thanks

[thekidsarentalright]

pete at download fest / i dont care single cover

[foxspritez]

not enough mermaid aus in this society

[eggsplice]

old trend of drawing ur fav characters in a car together ❤ peace and laurve (they would all hate each other)

[honourablepranksinatra]

As the years go by it is just funnier and funnier how Murdoch apparently Cannot Be Inspector due to Catholic discrimination.

Like yes we've had a woman inspector and yes now we have an Asian inspector (yay Paul Sun-Hyung Lee!) but this *checks notes* white straight man is catholic?? ...Sorry Toronto just isn't ready for that

[worstloki]

[loki being tortured between thor1 and avengers] Thanos, terrified, with arms shaking as he points the sceptre at Loki: have you had enough yet? Loki: Meow meow meow nyah nyah nya mew mew meow meow meow meow ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

[demigod-of-the-agni]

A DEVIL REBORN

Happy Halloween!!! A detailed ID will be placed under the cut (it's close to being 1K i could literally post this to Ao3)

p1. ड्याम्म (dyamma) - Nepali for "(feeling) full", "hitting something"

p3. Chutiya - Hindi for "idiot", "moron" and other related insults

p5. க்ரீச் (kreech) - Tamil onomatopoeia describing scraping/screeching sounds

[Extended Image ID: DYAMMA! Slamming his hands on a table, Achanba Okram finds himself in the darkness of his laboratory. He is wearing black clothes and a white lab coat on top, and has a bowl cut with rectangular glasses.

His thoughts whirl within boxes that are coloured gold and are outlined with red; they put a voice to the uneasy feelings Okram knows are stirring inside of him. The thought boxes read:

With Pavitr gone, I finally have time to string my thoughts together. Half-drowned answers bleed out of my pores. Coalescing like some great, abysmal creature of unknown origin.

Bracing his hands against the table, Okram is acutely aware of his body, of the gaping holes in his back that bubble with demonic energy. His thoughts narrate, My body quakes when I begin to question, wracked with paranoia. With dread, as if the idea of what I had to face was unbearable.

The holes in back — four of them, spaced evenly from each other — begin to ooze golden liquid, hot like fire and viscous like tar.

And yet, Okram thinks, I felt it all the same: that crawling, scintillating horror of my reality. Of my tainted flesh and blood. My being here is the work of demonic forces.

Golden arms, fluid yet bony, powered by some otherworldly thing, unravel from the void in his back. They flounder and expand around him, filling the lab with a cold glow. The fingers are tipped with talons, and, if he looked hard enough, Okram swears they are edged with blood.

I died years ago, Okram thinks. I lost my humanity to the fire of the devil's madness. Thus, the question remains: what is the future of Achanba Okram, a DEVIL REBORN?

The lights of the lab suddenly brighten, and Okram hears him before he sees him. His arms register the presence of the other person, immediately unraveling and slipping out of reality. Just outside, Pavitr Prabhakar's voice calls, "HEY, DOCTOR OKRAM! Sorry I'm late! Traffic was abysmal today."

Pavitr's entrance catches Okram by surprise, and he stutters out, "PAVITR?! You- ah- you have one of your shifts today?"

His thoughts reprimand him, You CHUTIYA! Pavitr always has his shifts on Tuesdays!

Pavitr is unaware of Okram's turmoil, sauntering into the laboratory while hefting up a white plastic bag. He's wearing a black and white flannel shirt, and he has circular earrings. Pavitr's eyes are trained on the bag in his hand. He answers Okram's question with, "Yeah, I do. I, uh, got a little hungry along the way (I'm always so hungry)." Pavitr whispers the last part as he lifts the bag up. He continues, "so I went and bought some vada pav, and—"

He suddenly pauses, his eyes locking onto Okram. He can't tell what is going beyond Pavitr's eyes, but the other man's analysing gaze unnerves Okram to a degree beyond description.

(In Pavitr's POV: his Spider-Sense was just triggered. Red and gold squiggly lines emanate from and surround his head in a halo.)

Pavitr lowers the bag slightly in concern. "Uhm," Pavitr says "are you okay, Doctor?"

Dread and fear floods Okram's system. Suddenly he is hyperaware of everything in the room, including the golden arm that has sprouted from his back and was lying on the workbench behind him, right in Pavitr's line of sight.

Play dumb! Okram's mind screams at him. Accordingly, Okram replies, a tad too tightly, "Of course I am, Pavitr! Why wouldn't I be?"

KREECH. The golden arm scrapes its taloned fingers across the table, no doubt giving away its location.

Okram chuckles nervously, sweating almost immediately, at which his mind howls, Not that dumb!

Pavitr narrows his eyes at Okram and at the golden arm on the workbench. "Are those...demonic arms?" he asks Okram, a shadow crossing his face.

(In Pavitr's POV: In the back of his mind, Pavitr sees a vague and faded image forming in response to seeing the arms. He remembers Doctor Octopus, the man with two extra sets of arms who had attacked him many years ago; he was one of the first villains Pavitr fought as Spider-Man. But... Doctor Octopus died a long time ago. Perhaps...?)

"Oh, Doctor..."

Pavitr's gaze softens as he asks, "Are you being haunted by demons? Have you been attacked by them? Why didn't you tell me? I'm so sorry this has been happening to you. I can't imagine how stressful this is for you." A moment, and then, "Do you want to talk about?"

Okram hides his face in his hands, quickly responding, "No, I'm alright, Pavitr."

Pavitr walks forward, placing his bag down and reaching down to place a reassuring hand on Okram's shoulder. "But, Doctor, men of your generation have ignored their mental health for too long."

"Yes, I know," Okram sighs.

"It'll be okay, Doctor," Pavitr promises, "we can figure something out!"

"And what?" Okram asks somewhat sarcastically. "You will be here with me 'every step of the way'?"

"One hundred percent!" Pavitr says.

Behind them, one of Okram's demonic arms reaches out to peer at Pavitr and Okram; if an arm could be happy, it certainly was. The arm is seemingly pleased with Pavitr's helpful and understanding nature. /.End ID]

[thesoupisburning]

right so you guys ever think about the spectre telling the narrator that hes more similar to her than to a person?

what "her" was she referring to? the fragment we call the spectre? the way he can only be perceived, not perceive himself? the ghost of him, the ghost of her? all of her?

im just. thinking. i always think about spectre. she has. a lot to say that i think is overlooked in favor of more common favorite routes like moment of clarity and the tower, but shes one of my favorites, and shes one of the only ones who SEES the narrator, save for wraith, who is. also her. or nightmare. and she says that hes not really a person. like her.

of course, that makes sense, we think shes a ghost and dead, so she is. but him. is the echo a ghost in the classical sense? is that what she meant? or are there layers?

she says he's not really like a person. what is a person to her? is she comparing the narrator to the "shards of broken glass on the floor" are her interactions with us and the voices the only "person" she knows?

i love love love when this game separates the narrator from us and our voices. i love it so much i think about it daily. props to tower for "layer of grime" that fucks so hard.

i don't have a thesis im just. thinking. how much of the narrator is left. really.

[saturnaous]

finding a distinct lack of weed related things in fma. I got my posts back so in the spirit of 420 I’m offering this doodle from the other day ‼️ go smoke some weed

[delicatetaysversion]

so many thoughts but i CANNOT stop laughing that all that time we thought louis had some elaborate mind control type reason for staying with armand and it was really just.. HIM TRYING TO MAKE HIS EX JEALOUS SLSKSKKSKSKS